


This Parade is Gay (That’s Kind of the Point)

by EmeraldAshes



Series: Dorks in D.C. [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Bickering, Established Relationship, F/F, M/M, Possessive Connor, Pride Parade, So much bickering, Social Anxiety, Summer, Washington D.C.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 19:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11424513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldAshes/pseuds/EmeraldAshes
Summary: Takes place a year after "The Electrified Third Rail," when Evan finally does go to that Pride Parade. Featuring: A very drunk, supposedly heterosexual Jared Kleinman; a happy Evan Hansen who only occasionally worries about everyone around him dying; swooning maiden Zoe Murphy; Connor in a pirate costume; some dude wearing a speedo; and a toddler. Welcome to D.C. Pride.





	This Parade is Gay (That’s Kind of the Point)

Descending the escalator at DuPont Circle Metro Station always makes Evan nervous. It’s 188 feet tall, seventeen stories, and Evan can just imagine himself hurrying down one day only to trip and fall and fall and fall, and probably crack his head open and just keep falling.

The ascent, however, steals his breath in a much more pleasant way. It reminds him of ascending into heaven. Smoothly, the gliding stairs usher him upwards towards the distant sunlight, until finally he breaks free to daylit sidewalk and the faint sweet smell of the donut shop clustered beside the exit.

Evan drums his fingers against the moving railing, feeling the press of strangers around him. When he glances back, hundreds of people crowd the escalator and fill the platform. They’re an odd bunch—some in bright colors, some in costume, others hardly wearing anything at all—but they all blur into a single undulating creature below him.

When Evan looks up, he’s staring directly into the back of Jared’s shirt, striped in every color of the rainbow. Its front, Evan knows, reads “TASTE the rainbow,” which will forever destroy Evan’s ability to eat skittles without blushing. Jared is also wearing short-shorts, knee-high rainbow socks, and a dozen fluorescent bracelets. 

Jared turns to Zoe beside him and declares, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Don’t you dare,” Zoe hisses. The indigo streaks in her hair are dotted with blue and pink barrettes, for the bisexual flag. She is clutching her purse to her chest with a white-fingered fierceness borne of having her phone snatched out of her hand during a previous metro ride.

Evan’s mouth twitches slightly as his roommate sways into Zoe.

“Shut up, Evan,” Jared grumbles.

“I, um, wasn’t talking?”

Jared waves his hand in a circle. “You were judging. You were judging loudly. Like it’s my fault that you’re some sort of sober…guy!”

“I’d just r-rather game than pre-game.” Evan is trying for confident, and he thinks he’s mostly succeeding. But the stutter undermines everything he says, which makes him nervous, and then he thinks maybe it’s better if he says nothing.

“It’s a parade,” Jared says. “You have to be drunk to enjoy a parade. Right, Zoe?”

Zoe shrugs. “I had one beer.”

“Right!”

They reach the top of the escalator. There are salespeople hawking flags, hats, T-shirts, cold water bottles. There are so many people, and some of them are shirtless, and when they push past, their bare skin brushes up against Evan’s arm. The crowd is thick, everyone pushing in different directions, and Evan’s feelings of excitement and belonging are quickly replaced by claustrophobia and the urge to bolt to the other side of the street.

Connor is waiting, though, so he can’t just leave. Evan tries to shout, but his voice cracks, “C-Connor?”

“Not like that, dude,” Jared says. He then starts hopping up and down, waving. “Connor, over here. Here, Connor, come on, boy!”

Evan feels a hand rest on his shoulder.

“You know I’m not a dog, right?” Connor says.

“Damn, you sure? ‘Cause that would explain why you’re such a little bitch,” Jared says.

“Well, I don’t see any assholes over here, but you’re still a piece of—“

“Connor!” Evan squeaks.

Connor grins, brushing a brunette curl behind his ear, and Evan squints against the sun, finally noticing…

“Connor, why are you wearing a pirate costume?”

Jared whispers into Evan’s ear, “Because he wants your booty.”

Connor, who is wearing a full pirate outfit complete with a Styrofoam sword at his belt, kicks Jared in the shin. He’s still smiling. “Why aren’t you wearing a pirate costume?”

Evan peers down at his blue polo and khaki shorts, his heart sinking. “I, um, I don’t know? Honestly, I think I’m underdressed…or maybe overdressed?”

Connor leans forward, murmuring into Evan’s ear. “Well, I wouldn’t object to you in a speedo.”

Evan’s breath catches because it’s Connor’s breath against his neck, his hand on his shoulder. But then it speeds up slightly because maybe he should have worn something different? He’s boring, he knows that, but he could have at least tried. And did Connor really want him to wear less, because just the thought of so many people looking at his pudgy stomach, his pale chest, the bulge of his…his…Oh God.

“Joking, just joking”—Connor gently strokes his neck—“You look great, Ev. If you really want to jazz it up, we’ll find a drunk girl to give you glitter.”

Evan barks out a surprised laugh. “What?”

Connor kisses the little dip beneath Evan’s ear. “Worked for me last year.”

Evan’s breath quickens for another reason, then.

“Gaaaaay,” Jared drawls.

Under the glares of three friends and several strangers, he adds, “And that’s great. Love you guys. You are my best friends.”

Connor stares at him blankly. “Have we met?”

Evan nudges Connor with his shoulder. “D-don’t.”

Jared flaps his hand, jostling the plastic bracelets lining his right arm. “You know, it’s kind of hard being the only straight one in this friend group.”

Connor’s voice is flat. “Tell me more about your straight, white, cis male struggle.”

“You tell him, gay, white, cis male!” Zoe cheers.

“Shut up, Zoe.”

Jared says, “No, seriously, it’s like I’m the token heterosexual friend! Like I’m only here for, uh…”

“Multiculturalism?” Evan suggests.

“Multiculturalism!”

“Careful,” Zoe says. “If you get too self-aware, we might have to trade you in for a token of greater value. Our new friend might be straight and Asian and in a wheelchair.”

Connor leans forward to poke her on the forehead. “You racist, ableist monster. Evan, back me up here.”

Evan is tugging at the end of his shirt, eyes on the pile of flags in the corner. He wants a flag, but it seems unnecessary and kind of extravagant. Five dollars doesn’t seem like a lot just the one time, but it sort of is, when you keep spending five dollars on things. And what is he even going to do with the stupid flag after the parade; hang it on the wall? Well, maybe…Jared does always say that Evan’s side of the room is totally devoid of personality. But is “I’m gay” the personality that he wants on his side of the room? Not that he’s ashamed or anything. But still.

Even if he does buy one, he has to fight through the crowd, talk to the salesman, try not to be upsold by the salesman—

“You want a flag?” Connor asks.

Evan shakes his head frantically. “N-no. No, not really. I mean…”

Connor slings an arm around his shoulder. “I’m buying you a flag.”

“You really don’t have to.”

Connor hums in agreement and leads him to the stall. “Which one do you want?”

“The rainbow, if that’s okay?”

Zoe follows, smoothly putting her hair up in a purple scrunchy as she walks. “Buy me the one with the hearts on it.”

Connor glares at her. “Buy your own damned flag.”

Zoe crosses her arms. “It’s my birthday next week.”

“Maybe I already bought you a present. Did you think of that?”

Zoe meets his eyes and holds the gaze, her expression unimpressed.

Connor breaks the eye contact and mumbles to the salesman. “Okay, fine. Two flags, please. And a straw hat.”

He immediately places the straw hat on Evan’s head. Evan tentatively reaches up to touch its rim. He probably looks like an idiot, but Connor is looking at him with his eyes soft and a little smile playing on his lips. Connor grabs Evan’s hand before it falls back to tug at his shirt. “It’s hot as hell out here, and you’re definitely gonna want the shade. Plus, you’re the one who wanted to look weirder.”

“Thanks?”

Connor smirks. “Any time.”

They wind their way through the crowd, walking past small houses with neat lawns, then through an area that’s more commercial. A rainbow flag hangs off the edge of one restaurant’s balcony. Evan reaches up and feels its fabric flutter against his fingers. Eventually, they find a spot at the edge of the sidewalk. To their left is a group of guys in tiny shorts. Calling them shorts is probably being generous, no, definitely being generous, and Evan isn’t staring, he isn’t staring. He is trying to look everywhere except there, and then he makes eye contact with this tall, muscular blond. The blond winks, which means he caught Evan staring. 

Evan whimpers with embarrassment, and then Connor drags Evan against his chest. He’s glaring at the blond who is only arguably wearing clothes. Connor snaps, “Mine.”

“Jealousy isn’t attractive, Connor,” Zoe says breezily.

Evan kind of disagrees because his back is pressed up against Connor’s chest, and Connor’s hand is brushing against his nipple. And right beside them is a mother with a toddler peering through the temporary barrier. Evan jerkily breaks free of Connor’s arms, thinking about trees and wildlife—which are unsexy thoughts to him, no matter how many times Jared waggles his eyebrows.

Thirty minutes later, they’re all drenched with sweat and steaming under the sun. Jared is swaying a little, but that’s probably the alcohol. The sunlight pulses down on them, the humidity is almost choking, and Evan is starting to think that he should put on a second layer of extra-strength sunscreen. Then, finally, the Pride Parade begins. 

A cluster of drag queens sashay in the lead. Zoe gasps, hand flying up to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

Connor snorts. “Too much for your virgin eyes?”

“They’re in stilettos.”

Jared laughs, drinking from a water bottle that Evan can smell is not full of water. “Yeah, ‘cause they’re drag queens.”

Zoe glares at him. “They’re walking. In stilettos. For the whole three hours.”

“That sounds like it would hurt?” Evan says slowly.

Zoe looks at him like he’s stupid, which would be hurtful if she wasn’t looking at Connor and Jared the same way. “Yes, I promise you that all of these men will be walking on blisters tomorrow. You guys have absolutely no idea…This is why I need Alanna.”

Jared drapes an arm around her shoulders, leaning in but still speaking so loudly that it’s basically a yell. “I assumed you kept her around for the amazing s—”

Zoe shoves him off, rolling her eyes as he cheerfully slouches across the barrier.

The next section of the parade is representing a women’s rights group, and it’s mostly pretty girls with big smiles. They each have a pile of beads swinging from an arm, and they toss them into the crowd. One girl crouches down to the toddler’s height, placing a necklace around his small neck before flitting back into the crowd.

Jared sticks out two grasping hands. “Me! Me! Give me the swag!”

Another bead-swinging woman glances at him, then continues to walk.

Jared groans. “Dude, she made eye contact. You can’t just make eye contact and then walk away.”

Connor smiles with true, slightly cruel, joy. “She saw you, and she deemed you unworthy.”

A truck rides in with the logo of a local animal shelter painted on its side. One of the volunteers sits in the back with three leashes in one hand, the other hand waving, and a chihuahua perched imperiously in her lap. 

Evan leans back against Connor’s chest. “I always kind of wanted a dog, but I…I don’t know. They have a lot of energy.”

“Me, too,” Connor murmurs, “but my mom would have totally freaked about all the fur.” 

“I want to pet her”—Jared points at the back of the truck—“Also the dog.”

“Pig,” Zoe says.

“Prude,” Jared retorts.

Zoe sets a hand on her hip. “Dick.”

Connor chimes in, “I think you’re both terrible.”

Zoe makes eye contact with Jared, then they both turn to Connor with their middle fingers raised.

“Guys,” Evan hisses. “G-guys, we’re right next to a baby.”

The baby collects another three necklaces and a stick-on tattoo as more groups march past. At last, a beaded necklace flies in their direction. Jared leaps for it.

Connor casually plucks it from the air above him.

Jared glares at him. “You don’t even want it.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” Connor lets go of the beads, and they sort of fall onto Evan’s neck, but they also partially tangle around his head. Connor carefully moves them so that they fall more naturally. He is always so gentle with Evan, and it’s amazing. Unbelievable. Probably undeserved.

Evan looks at the bright blue beads falling down his chest, then at a sputtering Jared Kleinman.

Jared jabs a finger at Connor. “You…you person you.”

Should he give Jared the beads? Jared seemed like he really wanted them, and Evan doesn’t want them nearly as much. But Connor gave them to him, so they’re sort of a present. It would be rude to give a present away, but Jared will probably just steal them later anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time Jared had taken something from their room and violated their roommate agreement and common decency, and, and…and Jared and Connor and Zoe are all watching the parade again. Nobody is thinking about the beads anymore but him, probably. The moment has passed.

Zoe glances over at him. “Evan, are you okay?”

No, pretty much never. “Yeah?”

“Did you forget to put on sunscreen, maybe?”

Evan’s hands fly up to his face. Oh no. He didn’t forget to…no, of course not. Probably not. He remembers putting it on. Maybe the sun is just so intense that it burned through it, but he’s wearing a hat. That should be helping.

“It’s just that your face is really red.”

“Oh”—Evan laughs, soft and nervous—“Yeah, no, that’s just my face. It goes red when I’m really hot or cold or exercise a lot…”

Jared giggles. “You should see him after sex.”

“Jared!”

“Nope,” Jared says. “You’re the one kicking me out of the room twice a week to play your kinky tree-based sex games.”

“That’s not true!”

Jared shrugs, raising his hands in an I-give-up gesture. “Woah, look, I don’t need to know the details of your sex life. I just know that Connor must have a lobster fetish because wow it’s like all the blood in your body pools right at the surface.”

“I will actually kill you.” Connor draws the Styrofoam sword from his belt and menaces Jared with it.

“See, you saying that right then? Means you’ll never get away with it”—Jared winks at him—“Evan, you heard him. You must avenge me.”

Evan chuckles. “S-sorry. I’m dating your, uh, fiendish murderer. Conflict of interest.”

Jared pouts, crossing his bracelet-covered arms. “Zoe, avenge me.”

Zoe looks at the sky, tap-tapping her lips with her pointer finger. “Hmmmm…Leave me your stuff when you die?”

“Done.”

“Then I’m in.” 

They shake hands on it.

“You’re both nerds,” Connor says.

Zoe leans over to lightly shove his arm. “You’re dressed like a pirate.”

“Which is what makes him so cool,” Evan mumbles.

Connor slings an arm over Evan’s shoulders, his Styrofoam sword dangling against the shorter boy’s chest. “Evan gets it.”

There are more floats going by now, mostly featuring people who are, well…people who aren’t wearing that much. And there’s music, sometimes. Connor growls at Jared to stop singing, Jesus Christ just stop singing, but Evan can see Connor mouthing along to “I Want It That Way.” And Evan’s heart kind of melts.

“Sorry,” Evan automatically blurts out when he feels a body bump into him, but the body doesn’t move away. Zoe’s eyes are half-lidded, and her cheeks are flushed.

“A-are you okay?” Evan asks.

Zoe blinks up at him, her shoulder still against his chest. “I think I’m gonna pass out. I’ve been seeing black spots for like five minutes.”

“Zoe Murphy, professional swooning maiden,” Connor interjects. “Like most delicate flowers, Zoe does poorly under direct sunlight.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Zoe mumbles.

Connor shoves his half-drunk water bottle into Zoe’s hands. “Here. The water’s lukewarm, smells weird, and is full of my diseases. Just like the doctor ordered. I’m gonna go buy myself a cold one from the shifty-looking guy on the corner.”

Zoe takes a sip of the water and wrinkles her nose a little. “Disgusting…Thanks, Connor.”

Connor smiles at his sister. It’s tight and close to a smirk, but Evan also knows that it’s incredibly rare and borderline miraculous. “Anytime.”

“Oh, and Zoe?”—Connor turns around just before disappearing into the crowd—“Hands off my boyfriend.”

Zoe groans. “He is such a dick.”

Evan hums softly. “I like him, though.”

Zoe takes a deep gulp from the water bottle, emptying it. “Me, too.”

“That guy looks super sunburned,” Jared declares, pointing at one of the parade members. The parade has stalled, and the man is waving at the crowd, occasionally flexing his abs.

Zoe shrugs one shoulder, still clutching the empty water bottle. “He does look kind of red.”

Jared begins to rifle through his bag, and there is absolutely no world in which this ends well. That isn’t Evan’s pessimism talking; it’s his common sense.

Jared thrusts a blue bottle towards the sky. “I’m gonna offer him my suntan lotion.”

Evan groans. “Oh God, please d—“

But Jared is already squeezing past the barrier, which totally destroys the purpose of having a barrier, and they’re gonna think he’s a terrorist. He’s gonna get shot and have to drop out of school, and then Evan will have to find another roommate. When Evan pulls himself out of his thought spiral, Jared is loping back towards them, pouting like a spoiled child. 

“He said no.”

Zoe, who has draped her heart-studded flag over her head to give herself some shade, rolls her eyes. “He probably has a boyfriend.”

Jared waves the suntan lotion container it at her. “All I was offering was protection! From the sun!”

Laughter threads her words. “Yeah, but you were pretty eager to lather up his back.”

“That’s gay.” On the one hand, Evan is glad that Connor’s back. On the other hand, he’s still Connor.

Jared raises his pointer finger. “Number one: It was totally, unquestionably innocent. Stop questioning it. Number two: I don’t think it threatens my sexuality to be attracted to someone that hot. It’s like Ryan Reynolds. Everyone is gay for Ryan Reynolds.”

Connor snorts. “I’m not gay for Ryan Reynolds, and I’m actually gay.”

“You’d totally do Deadpool, though.” Zoe smirks at him from under her flag, her blinks still slow and heavy.

“You look like an idiot.” Connor hands her a condensation-covered water bottle, which she presses to her forehead. She then sinks down until she’s sitting cross-legged on the blacktop. She cradles her head in her hands, breathing deeply.

What if she tries to stand, but then she passes out. She would fall, of course. Evan is closest, and he would try to catch her. But Evan is a klutz. Instead, she smacks her head against the blacktop. And maybe they all think she’s okay because she gets back up again and laughs it off. But actually she’s bleeding internally (like that patient his Mom had once, the pretty high school sophomore who drank too much and fell down the stairs at a party), and then she—

“Sh-should we go?” Evan blurts out. “If you’re not feeling…I mean, it’s really hot?”

Zoe flicks a sweat-soaked bang off her face, eyes on the parade. “We’re not leaving until we see Alana.”

Alana is marching with the mayor because she’s interning at his office. She’s only a sophomore, not even a sophomore, really, and she already has an amazing internship. And Evan wasn’t even thinking about internships before she started hers, but now he thinks maybe he’s falling behind. Connor says Alana’s just an overachiever, but Connor thinks that everyone is an overachiever. 

So they watch the parade. The toddler perched beside them gathers more beads. Jared tries to steal one. Zoe threatens to pepper spray him.

And then Evan spots a familiar face in the parade.

“Is that your—?”

Connor grabs Evan’s hand and starts to drag him further into the crowd, towards the sidewalk. “We’re leaving.”

Zoe stands up, swaying slightly and grabbing onto Connor’s puffy white shirt for balance. But then she uses that hand to hold him in place as she lifts the other in a wave. “Hi, Mom!”

“I hate you,” Connor hisses.

Cynthia Murphy—her hair perfect and smile unwavering—walks over to them.

“Hi, darling!” Mrs. Murphy calls. “Hi, Connor!”

“Mom,” Connor mutters.

“This is such a fun parade, isn’t it? Everyone’s so colorful.”

“Mom, please put that down.” With a pained expression, Connor gestures at the sign Mrs. Murphy is holding. It reads, ‘I love my gay son AND my gay daughter.’

Mrs. Murphy lifts it a little higher, smile widening. “Oh, honey, I’m just proud of you. And Evan, how are you doing? Feeling better?”

Evan hates talking to Connor’s family. Hates it. They’re nice, yeah, but Evan is worried that he’ll say the wrong thing and they’ll hate him. Or, worse, he’ll say the right thing, and they’ll love him. And then Connor won’t like him anymore because Connor doesn’t like his family that much. 

“Am I b-better?”

Mrs. Murphy hugs the handle of her sign. “Connor mentioned you couldn’t make it to our family dinner last month because you were sick.”

Evan gives a jittery series of nods. “Oh! That, that better. I’m better, yeah, totally fine. Right as rain. I feel great.”

“Great! I can’t wait to see you this Thursday, then.”

“Can’t wait…” Evan smiles weakly at her, then risks a glance at Connor. But Connor isn’t looking at him. Connor is watching the parade, scowling. Evan glances over, too, and he sees a pick-up truck representing a politician. It isn’t the first one today, but it is the first time that Larry Murphy beams out at them from the side of the truck.

Connor’s hand tightens around Evan’s. “Fucking Larry.”

Mrs. Murphy’s smile wavers. “He’s trying to be supportive.”

“He’s stumping for votes. If he wanted to be supportive, he’d have shown up. What the hell is his excuse? Wants to spend more time with the family? That can’t be it. We’re all here!”

Zoe scowls at her brother. “It’s not a big deal, Connor. It’s fine.”

Evan shouldn’t butt into other people’s business, but he hates it when Connor’s family overpowers him. “It’s not fine, though?”

Everyone is looking at him: Zoe, Jared, Mrs. Murphy, Connor, even the toddler is peering up at Evan. It occurs to him that he’s had nightmares exactly like this, but at least he’s wearing clothes this time. That’s a comfort, right?

Evan clears his throat. “I…I mean, Connor’s allowed to not be fine with it? His dad isn’t here, and maybe he has a good reason. Maybe he’s working or something came up, or whatever. But it still sucks, and it’s okay if it sucks.”

There’s a moment of quiet.

“Should we hug?” Jared opens up his arms and waggles his eyebrows.

“G-gay,” Evan mumbles.

Jared winks. “I’m just so attractive to you that everything I do becomes sexual. Don’t deny it. I see the truth in your eyes.”

“Fuck off, Kleinman,” Connor says.

Mrs. Murphy looks between them, seeming utterly lost. “Right. I should catch up with the other moms. Remember, all of you are coming to dinner this Thursday. See you soon!”

They stare after her. Jared says, “Does ‘all of you’ include me?”

“This is going to be hell,” Connor says.

“That’s a yes,” Zoe adds.

As the sun shines with unrelenting cheer and the crowd droops below, the parade continues. A group of bikers rev their way down the street. A partially-deflated, giant lion balloon drifts down the street. And finally, they spot Alana.

The girl is one of twenty people in matching T-shirts. They are all dancing down the street to a pop song that Evan only vaguely recognizes. Alana doesn’t have much rhythm, but she moves with fierce determination.

Connor claps for the first time all day, Evan cheers, Jared makes a weird “ai ai ai” yipping noise, and Zoe wolf-whistles and shouts, “Alana!”

Alana smiles at them and waves. As she comes alongside them, though, the parade stalls again. After three minutes without motion, her face is more set and her smile less genuine.

“Oh, screw it,” Zoe mutters. She weaves around the barrier separating them from the parade and races to Alana. Zoe takes her girlfriend’s hand, smiles, and twirls her. Their dance is beautiful, and isolated…like they’re in their own private world that Evan is only privileged to see.

Then Jared darts into the street, attempting to breakdance for what is clearly the first time in his life.

“He’s an idiot,” Connor says warmly, then glances down at Evan with kindness in his eyes. “Want to dance?”

In the middle of a street full of friends and strangers, while clumsily attempting to dip a laughing Connor Murphy, Evan realizes how far he’s come in the past year.

He feels proud.

**Author's Note:**

> I do wish I could have squeezed a little more Alana into this fic, but no worries. She's going to play a solid role in my upcoming one-shot...In other news, I can't stop writing for this fandom. I have another full draft prepared, plus several hopping bunnies. They say to write what you know. Apparently I know D.C. and mental illness. Yay?


End file.
